


Know Thyself (on hold)

by silverxrain



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverxrain/pseuds/silverxrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Doctors are all holed up in a bunker drifting around space aimlessly until their respective TARDISes repair themselves and they can leave. Their TARDISes are locking them out, so what else can they do to pass the time except get to know each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know Thyself (on hold)

The Doctor wasn't pleased. "Space junk?" he cried, striding around the console hitting buttons. His leather jacket flapped, the TARDIS doors were open, and a breeze was coming in, though how, he had no idea. "My TARDIS is recognized as space junk? She's a living machine, idiots," he muttered, managing to settle the TARDIS, which had been shaking and nearly rattling to pieces, onto whatever trawling garbage cleaner had picked them up. This wasn't fun, he'd have to go and explain to whoever was running this that this was a living, working TARDIS, with a pilot, and they might not decide to let go of the last such machine in the universe so easily.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Rose called. She was back in one of the corridors. She entered the room with her hair in a towel. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, don't worry about, some trouble with the space janitors. I'll handle it," he said, flashing her a quick grin. "Oh, alright," Rose said. She left, muttering, "Space janitors. Of course there are space janitors.

Rose would be fine. The Doctor pocketed his screwdriver and pushed open the doors.

_Oh._

Apparently not the last TARDIS in the universe.

It was another TARDIS, but it was definitely his. His was the only one that looked like a 60s telephone box.

This made things a little bit more complicated.

 

The Doctor wasn't pleased. He'd just gotten off the _Titanic_ \- the spaceship, not the boat, and now he'd been dragged in with the rubbish. He couldn't wait to go and inform the louts that had mistaken _his_ TARDIS for junk that they'd just made the catch of their lives - and they certainly weren't going to keep it. He patted the console. "Be back in a minute, old girl," he told her. The TARDIS was all he had, now Rose had gone, and Martha had left. It felt so empty without that Londoner accent echoing through the console room, asking questions...

He sighed. It did no good dwelling on the past. And although he missed Martha in a way he hadn't expected, it was for the best. Pulling his coat from the Y beam, he put it on, and strode out through the doors. 

_Oh._

This would be rather interesting. 

 

The Doctor wasn't pleased.

He'd been meaning to get back to Leadworth in time for Christmas dinner with the Ponds. Of course, he had a time machine, so Christmas dinner in 2011 could be in a hundred years from or yesterday, but still - what was it humans said? It's the thought that counts. 

Somebody had pulled in his ship. He consulted the monitors, but nothing but static appeared. That was odd. He shrugged, fastening his bowtie. It was always good to wear a bowtie when meeting new people, as he assumed he would be doing now. He'd have to convince some silly crew that his ship wasn't junk and though Amy didn't agree, bowties made you look professional. Right? 

He strode out through the doors, only to come face to face with another blue police box.

_Oh._

This would be more fun than he'd expected. 

 

 


End file.
